


Evidence

by AmandaRex



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Amazon Documentary, F/M, Fitz is a little thick, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Iain's interviews also to blame for this, Romance, There's taking things slow and then taking things sllllooooowwww, inspired by the 3x13 Parting Shot promo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:16:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6278635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmandaRex/pseuds/AmandaRex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's possible to nobly respect someone a little too much. The aftermath of the infamous evening, spent by Fitzsimmons, watching the Amazon Rainforest documentary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evidence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lettertoelise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettertoelise/gifts).



> I gift this to lettertoelise, who is far too awesome.

Fitz was whistling to himself, balancing a sleeve of crackers on top of two mugs of tea as he made his way to Jemma's quarters. He was on a quick turnaround back at the Playground from the mission to support Bobbi and Hunter, and he was hoping Jemma wouldn't be held up in the lab or pulled into anything else going on around the base.

He frowned at her door when he got there, realizing he was without a free hand to knock with. He eventually settled on banging his elbow into it as hard as he could, hoping it was loud enough for her to hear. The tea sloshed a little, and the crackers were about to fall when Jemma appeared.

"Fitz," she said, smiling softly at him as she rescued the unbalanced crackers. "I thought you were on a mission."

"We're not back for long. Leaving again in a few hours."

"Bobbi and Hunter are all right?"

"So far." He held out one of the mugs, clinking his against it as she took it. "Mind if I..." He indicated, with a quick forward tip of his chin, the interior of her quarters.

"Ah, of course," she said, pulling the door toward her to give him room to go in.

"You'll never believe what Hunter said, actually." He took his usual seat at the end of her bunk, allowing her plenty of space to lean back into her pillows, facing him. "He brought up that documentary about the Amazon, the one he suggested we watch?"

She hummed absently after he waited a moment, and he was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong. Jemma certainly seemed distracted, and she hadn't been long on eye contact since she'd answered the door.

"Well, Coulson stopped us when I told him we'd watched it. I suppose it wasn't the time to discuss the deforestation of—"

"Fitz," she said, her voice a little harsh when she cut him off.

"I suppose now also isn't the time to discuss it?" He grinned at her, but he felt his smile falter a little when she barely returned it. "You're right. I don't have a lot of time. We probably shouldn't spend it rehashing everything the documentary had to say."

"Perhaps not," she said, her tone almost flat, with a worrying edge of finality to it.

"Is something the matter?" He felt silly asking, but she looked away as soon as he said it, all but confirming that there was something behind her detached, non-committal demeanor. 

She sighed, sitting on the bed next to him, her eyes focused on her folded hands in her lap. "I've been thinking about that night."

Fitz's mind whirled through every detail of the evening he could recall, performing a desperation of analysis on each moment they'd spent together. He'd thought he'd been a perfect gentleman, but perhaps he'd taken things too far. He felt a little sick at the idea that Jemma hadn't been ready, then even worse when he realized he'd just told her he'd been discussing the evening with Hunter.

"Hunter doesn't know anything," he said, trying to get the words out quickly, bending down to try to catch her eye. "You know I wouldn't talk about you that way with anyone else."

"Oh, Fitz," she said, finally looking at him, and his heart broke at the sadness in her expression. Perhaps she didn't believe him.

"I'm being serious, Jemma. You know I wouldn't lie to you, don't you?"

"Fitz, there's nothing to lie _about_ ," she said, and he could hear the irritation creeping into her tone. "That's just it."

"I didn't tell him I kissed you, Jemma."

"Do you honestly..." she began, getting up and pacing the length of the room as she spoke, "...think I care one iota what Hunter thinks? This isn't about Hunter. It's about the two of us. It's about what you think. Or how you think." She groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"How I think...about what?"

"About us. No," she corrected herself. "About me."

Fitz could feel his heart start to race. He knew they hadn't said the words, not exactly, but he'd been certain she understood how he felt about her, how much he felt for her.

"Jemma," he said, taking a deep breath before he continued, because he knew once he said this, there'd be no going back. "I thought you knew how impossibly, completely—"

"Fitz!" she said, and he leaned back a little, startled that she'd choose that particular moment to interrupt him. "I know what you _think_ you feel, but it doesn't seem to translate into...anything else."

He stood up, crossing the room until they were inches apart, and faced her. She looked back at him defiantly, putting them nose to nose. She looked as though she'd just presented him with mountains of incontrovertible evidence for a well-researched point, but as far as he was concerned, she wasn't making any bloody sense at all. When he told her as much, gritting the words between his teeth, she closed her eyes, squeezing them so tight her forehead wrinkled, and she let out a long, frustrated breath.

"We were here...alone...with two glasses of wine and the lights off. I borrowed pillows from all over the base for us to curl up on, and we laid down, _right there_ ," she raved, turning and flailing the direction of her bunk, "and watched the bloody documentary."

"Jemma—"

"No. I'm in the middle of humiliating myself, Fitz, and I won't have you interrupting me." She was quite loud now, nearly shouting, and Fitz was sure anyone walking by would be able to clearly make out every word. "We watched the whole thing, had a lovely chat about our tragic misuse of the environment as a species, and then you gave me a peck on the lips and _left_."

She seemed to think she'd just accused him of something awful, but all he'd heard was a fairly accurate, if rote, retelling of the last evening they'd spent together.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Fitz. You kissed me like I was your sister, and then you couldn't get out of here fast enough. You might think you're in love with me, but your body doesn't seem to agree."

Fitz was breathing hard now, his adrenaline pumping as though they were on a mission, running for their lives. He had to bend over a little just to feel like he could catch his breath, and his mind was tearing through every word she'd said, wildly trying to make sense of it.

If she'd thought his body wasn't as interested in her as his mind was, it only meant he'd done a decent job of maneuvering the two of them on the bed so she wouldn't feel the evidence of what he was thinking about instead of deforestation and greenhouse gasses. 

"Oh, Fitz," she said, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "I'm...oh...I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up this way, shouting at you. It's not your fault. It's...it's better that we know now, rather than later? Don't you think?"

Right, he thought. He'd struggled not to overwhelm her, but he'd apparently gone so far to show her his respect that she doubted how much she affected him. There was a fix, of course. He was a genius, and he'd understood how to repair this particular problem the moment he saw where their disconnect was.

"Jemma," he said, his voice calm, but it was about an octave lower than his usual speech. He took her by the arms and she looked at him, confused and a little dazed, as he backed her into the wall behind them. "You can say 'no' at any time, and I'll stop. You understand, don't you?"

She nodded, quickly at first, then slowing down as he let his gaze bore into hers. His right hand left her arm and he brought it to rest on the wall next to her head. When he was sure he could brace himself solidly, he leaned almost all his weight onto his shoulder, then moved toward her until their bodies were molded together.

"Is this all right, Jemma? I'll stop if you want me to."

"It's...yes. It's all right," she said, her eyes wide and dark as she blinked up at him.

He kissed her then, like he'd wanted to the last time he was here. He gave her no time to adjust, moving against her and deepening the kiss, plunging his hand into her hair to hold her where he needed her. When they broke apart, both of their chests were heaving as they struggled to catch their breath. 

"That's what I wanted to do last time," he whispered, nudging her chin upward with his forehead to expose the length of her neck. "Do you still think I don't want you like this?"

"No," she answered, her voice breaking on the single syllable as he closed his mouth over the juncture of her shoulder and neck.

He sucked hard on the skin there, biting down. He not only knew he'd leave a mark, he intended to do it. If she wanted proof that he needed her, he was going to give it to her by every method he could think of.

"I'm going to take you to your bed now, Jemma, unless you tell me no."

Those were the last words either of them spoke for a long time.


End file.
